In Our Eyes
by Embers Rose
Summary: Alys, orphan she-warrior in Cornwall. Terrin, Irish prince. What they are together changes everything.  Tristan and Isolde backwards, basically. T for future content
1. Chapter 1

The girl was ten. She had long black hair, braided down her back. She wore boys clothes.  
Behind her, her father watched silently as she stalked the rabbit.  
The rabbit twitched at her presence. She bolted forward.  
She carried home her prize within two minutes.  
"Good kill, Alys." her father praised as they entered Cornwall's castle, in all its wooden glory.  
Alys ran to the hearth, and her rabbit cooked on the spit. Her mother approached behind her, as her father and Cornwall's knights discussed the issue with Ireland. Her mother was beautiful, and such glory was to be expected when ones parents were Roman diplomats. But Rome had fallen, nearly fifty years ago, and her mother had aged.  
"Mother, what do you think will happen?" Alys asked, not turning from the fire.  
"Such worries are much too old for such a young mind" her mother said. Alys hated when she did that. Answered with out ever really answering.  
Then, Sir Marke got the attention of everyone.  
"People," he said, "My wife is with child, and already I can tell it is a boy. I do not want my son to be raised in a land filled with fear and hatred. We must make peace with the Irish!" But no one had time to object, because the castle was lit on fire. Not by Alys and her rabbit, but by the devils spoken of just an instant before; The Irish 


	2. Chapter 2

Dressed in mourning clothes, the boy is ten. The day is cloudy, and muggy. No one smiles. No one can.  
He has muddy river hair. And olive green eyes.  
His father walks in front of him, a shriveling, sniveling lump of a man. Not the regal king he should be. He looks to his father's right, and his heart sinks once more. Where normally his mother would be, is empty. She is dead. And he forgot.  
Hours later, a messenager returns from England. The Cornwall palace has been burnt to the ground. The enemies have been abolished.  
Terrin feels the remorse he knows his father cannot feel. No such truce can be made when such hate dominates the two lands.  
NINE YEARS LATER Alys is nineteen. Her cousins Melot and Brodkin have yet to return from their "journey". She leaves the Cornwall castle, in all its stone glory, to see her town. She and her cousins and her uncle rebuilt the town after the Irish burnt it to the ground. After the Irish killed so many, with no such hint of remorse.  
She still wears mens' clothes.  
Alys glances over the town. People have rebuilt their lives, their families. She remembers the last time she seen her parents, her brother, or her sister. Painfully clear, she sees their burnt bodies on the ground in front of her ten year old self. She swore vengence. No Irish being would be spared from her wrath.  
Her cousins return, laughing, and loud, on horse back. They dismount, approaching her. Her cousin Melot, with his dark hair and eyes, ducks in close.  
"Come on, Alys, we found some ruins. They have tunnels that go at least five miles out." He whispers. They cloak themselves, and disappear in the crowd. If anyone seen them heading to ruins, Marke would have their heads. It was still forbidden to leave the town with out permission, even though the last attack was five years ago.  
When they are safely tucked away in the woods, they lose their cloaks. The day was warm, and it was still early. The day was destined to be a scorcher. They slipped through the cool, green underbrush, and came upon the ruin.  
"Its a damn building." she says, bluntly. "Not even a building. Its just pillars with some bush growing in the center." Brodkin laughs. "Alys, its whats underneath the bush. Come on, use that pretty little head of yours." She groans at the remark. She, unfortunetly, inheirated her mothers beauty at the age of twelve, and since then has been a prize of sorts. She has also been called a fool, because according to Marke, beauty did not come with brains.  
How wrong they were.  
Alys enters the ruin, and comes across a trap door. She yanks it open.  
She jumps into the dusty tunnels, and hears her cousins follow. She explores the tunnels for hours, finding trap doors and secret entrances into buildings of Cornwalls.  
"Scandolous, those Romans were." 


	3. Chapter 3

Terrin wandered the cloudy shores, picking up stones as he went. The clouds rumbled, like angry gray fists, ready to strike any moment.

It was the ability to note such things that made Terrin's father so angry and blind to his son's point of view. The Irish king's mood often resembled the clouds.

"Terrin!" called a familiar voice from the fog. "Your father needs to see you!"

"Coming!" he yelled in return. He walked quickly to the gloomy stone castle.

Terrin entered the throne room, the place where his mother had spent so much time when he was younger. Before he let his heart feel the ache it always did in this room, his father appeared from the shadowy throne.

"Son," he greeted darkly.

"Father"

"There is something we need to discuss. I am getting older, and less able to rule. It is time for you to marry. There are many eligible brides for you."

"Father, can I not-'

"Terrin you must."

"But father, I don't want a forced marriage. You did not have an arranged marriage so why must I?"

"Because it is a desperate time! When I was ready, this kingdom was a peaceful place! There will be no more arguments! You have a fort night to choose." The king yelled. "I must leave to Cornwall, for an attack."

"Good bye father"

XxXxXx

Alys emerged from the tunnels. They were always finding new ruins from the Roman rule.

Suddenly, a cry cut through the forest.

The cousins ran to the castle.

"Marke! The Irish! They are near!" Brodkin cried.

"I know, nephew."

"Wait, Marke, I have an idea" Alys said, suddenly. Melot looked into her gray eyes, already knowing her plans.

XxXxXx

Alys hid in a bush, a quiver on her back. Behind her, Melot rustled.

All at once, a cloud of dust and the yells of Irishmen flooded them. The Irish were fast, but Alys' army was faster. In an instant, they flew from the tunnels, bushes and trees. Arrows and swords flew.

Alys could see the Irish general. She flew at him, dagger in hand. In a quick, fluent motion, she slit his throat. Though not before the man sliced her shoulder with his sword. A sword coated in poison.

The dust settled, and Melot looked for Alys. Brodkin lay in a bush, unconscious. Then, he seen her. Her body lay on the road, a deep gash on her shoulder and blood soaking her clothes.

"Alys!" he cried. But she did not respond. Hearing Melot's desperation, Marke ran over. "Father, Alys is dead."

Alys' body lie in a boat, surrounded in pine branches. Her black hair cascaded down her body. Her only dress covered her corpse as her family cast her out to sea.

X

Terrin wandered the green shores when he seen the boat. He ran down to the beach. A girl lay in it. She had cascading black hair and she wore an ornate evergreen dress. He ducked his head down to her mouth. Shallow breaths escaped. She was still alive.

He carried her body to a door in the cliff. He lay her down on a bed of hay. She would be the only one to know about Terrin's hide away sanctuary.


End file.
